I'm Omar's mother. My son is 27 years old and has hydrocephalus, dystonia, low vision, epilepsy, and intellectual disability.
When he was four, the question of school arose. Special schools had only recently been shut down, and placing disabled children in mainstream schools was still experimental.
We were fortunate in two ways. We found an excellent maternal and child development team, and we lived in a neighborhood with a Montessori school—one that had originally been created for children with difficulties, then later adapted for all children.
From preschool onward, Omar was welcomed warmly by his teachers and especially by his classmates. Much depended on the teachers' attitudes, and from an educational standpoint, their work was excellent.
There were unpleasant moments too, caused by people unsuited to teaching or simply uninterested. I had to step in firmly. But overall, the preschool and elementary years went well.
I contributed to his learning by writing him a history book in the form of a fable, modeled on Montessori teaching materials a teacher at his school had shared with me. As a biologist, I framed the story evolutionarily—to show how events connect and how causes lead to effects. That's why I called it Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow.
Omar read it willingly, and other children like him, whom I gave copies to, benefited from it—or so their parents told me.
Now I've managed to publish it, and I hope it will help other children too.
Once elementary school ended, things became far more difficult. At the middle school I chose for Omar, I had to fight continuously against the ignorance and pettiness of many teachers who would ignore him or shuffle him from class to class. Despite his disabilities, he can read, write, and remember what he's read. He was perfectly capable of being in class with the others—with a modified curriculum and support from his assigned aide, of course.
After middle school, partly because of these struggles, I decided not to enroll him in high school, which likely would have created more problems than it solved.
Instead I found a day center that follows roughly the school calendar. There, Omar works with competent and caring staff, participates in workshops, and has many friends—which matters most to him.
Letizia Conversi, 2013
When Omar was in third grade, I wrote a history book for him in the form of a fable—partly as a game, partly to give him new stimulation.
Omar needs a little more time and patience when learning something new.
As I wrote and read it to him, I saw it captured his interest and he understood it. That pushed me to go further and explore topics I wasn't prepared for.
The thread running through the book is time itself—events linked to one another, even when they seem completely separate. I emphasized the ideas of continuity and evolution because I noticed, through Omar, that telling history this way lets you never lose the narrative thread. It also makes it easier to make natural connections.
Some chapters lend themselves to performance, with the reader and listener acting things out—which delighted Omar when he had to become a dinosaur or an ape.
Now that I've finally published it, I hope to make a small contribution to the growth of our children.
To request a copy, contact: dwina@libero.it